


Midnight Rousing

by Silent_So_Long



Series: otpprompts [48]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:18:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and a midnight rousing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Rousing

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the following prompt: [Imagine person A of your OTP is roused in the middle of the night by loud banging and crashing coming from downstairs, and the first thing they notice is that person B is no longer in the bed beside them. They hurry downstairs and find B, the smaller member of your OTP, on the floor in the kitchen, unharmed, having been standing on a chair to reach something on a higher shelf and fallen when the chair tilted over, dragging down half the contents of the shelves with them. How things go from there is up to you.](http://letsimagineotps.tumblr.com/post/128488558054/your-otp-prompts-imagine-person-a-of-your-otp)

Richard was jolted awake by the sound of a loud crash splitting the night air asunder; he sat up and tried to ignore the blood-rush that the sudden movement gave him. He stared blindly into the darkness of the bedroom surrounding him, bedcovers clutched tightly in both hands as the noise continued. It sounded, to Richard’s startled ears, very much like tin cans hitting the tiled floor of the kitchen, spinning and rolling crazily in every direction, swiftly followed by a swift barrage of loud curses in a familiar, deep voice.

“Paul?” Richard asked, as he checked the bed beside him, despite the fact that he suspected that his partner would not be there.

He was right; the smaller man had already left the bed and was in the kitchen, although it seemed as though he hadn’t been gone long. The sheets were still slightly warm on Paul’s side of the bed, yet cool enough to let Richard know that he’d been gone longer than a few minutes. He cast his gaze towards the clock on Paul’s bedside cabinet and saw that the time, rendered in glowing red numerals, was past midnight.

“Paul?” he called, louder that time, and received a faint answer from the kitchen, although he couldn’t quite understand what the other man said.

He sighed, swung his legs out of bed and padded across the room, cracking open the door before wending his way through the apartment towards the kitchen. The door was ajar, leaving only a slice of light cutting through the darkness of the corridor, yet it was light enough for Richard to find his way without tripping or banging against anything that was in his way. 

He pushed the kitchen door open once he’d reached it and the wooden barrier sent a can spinning across the tiled floor again with an almost eerie clatter; Richard was alarmed to find Paul sitting flat out upon the floor, holding one hand to his head, and wearing an incredibly grumpy expression upon his face. His upper body was bare and the pyjama bottoms he wore had hiked and twisted awkwardly against his legs as he’d fallen. Beside him, lay an upset chair, legs sticking awkwardly out from where it had landed, whilst a whole cupboard’s worth of cans and packaged food lay in drifts around Paul’s body.

“What the hell have you done?” Richard asked, a sudden laugh leaking unbidden from between his lips.

“Don't you dare fucking laugh, Reesh,” Paul said, despite the fact that Richard already was and that Paul himself was smiling. 

“Are you alright?” Richard asked, as he padded forward, avoiding the minefield that the kitchen floor had become. “What were you trying to do anyway? Other than emptying the cupboard of everything we own.” 

“I’m alright,” Paul said, in response to Richard's first question, as he lifted his hand for the other man to take. “Nothing’s broken, except for my pride and my ego.” 

Richard grunted as he hefted Paul to his feet, hands immediately shoring against Paul’s hips when the smaller man stumbled into him; Richard thought that the stumble was more by design than by accident, yet he didn‘t care. Instead he relished the contact, and smiled down at his partner affectionately. Paul laughed, and the warm gust of his breath blasted against Richard’s throat as Paul leant comfortably against him, cheek brushing against Richard’s. 

“You sure you‘re alright?” Richard asked, as he ran one hand over Paul’s side, travelling round until it shored up against Paul’s butt, which he squeezed gently. 

Paul laughed and shoved him, but with little force; Richard didn’t move, and he left his hand upon Paul’s butt, rubbing it gently as he leered at the smaller man. 

“Any excuse to have a grope,” Paul said, but he didn’t move away either.

“You never complain,” Richard pointed out. “Besides, you have a very touchable bum.” 

“Shut up,” Paul said, with a laugh, even as he moved away.

Richard mourned the loss of Paul’s body against him, and the scent of the other man in his nostrils. He followed him further into the room, careful to avoid the can of beans that Paul inadvertently kicked across the room as he bent to pick up a package of mashed potato. 

“What were you looking for?” Richard asked, curiously, again, as he began to help Paul retrieve the fallen goods from the cupboard.

The cans and boxes made little scraping noises as they were pushed back into the cupboard and Paul’s hand often brushed warmly against Richard’s, as they clashed to push their food back where it belonged.

“The Nutella,” Paul said, in response to Richard‘s question, with a sudden flare of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “It somehow got pushed to the back of the damned cupboard and I couldn’t reach it. I had to get the chair and I fell off.”

“Oh, Paulchen,” Richard said, with a tut. “You should have woken me, y’know.” 

“Didn’t wanna,” Paul said. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“With Nutella?” Richard asked, in bafflement. “What on earth for?”

Paul glared at Richard meaningfully, until Richard realised just what the other man had been intending to use the Nutella for.

“Oh. With Nutella. Right,” Richard said, with an approving grin. “I see.” 

“Hmm,” Paul grunted, as he shoved the pineapple chunks back into the cupboard and slammed it heftily shut. “I think that’s the last of it.” 

Richard nodded, and followed Paul back into the bedroom, the jar of Nutella held firmly in the other man’s hand. 

“This shit’s probably gonna make the sheets sticky, y’know,” Richard pointed out, even as Paul settled upon the edge of the bed. 

Paul’s shoulders rose and fell in a swift and uncaring shrug, before he said - “That’s what the washing machine’s for, Reesh.”

Richard grunted, before he settled in bed beside his lover. He plucked the jar from Paul’s unresisting fingers, and stared at the label with interest, as Paul swung his legs beneath the covers and stared at Richard expectantly. 

“You wanna be on the receiving end or shall I?” Paul asked, as he nodded at the Nutella clutched in Richard's hand. 

“You can,” Richard said, as he began unscrewing the jar with a smile filled with dark promise.

****

Paul soon forgot his earlier embarrassment and the blossoming bruise upon his behind when he felt the first smear of Nutella against his chest. He closed his eyes, as Richard continued to daub him with the dark and sticky spread; Paul was glad that it was actually quite warm, and not the colder chocolate sauce that that they’d used previously on other occasions.

The Nutella was not so easy to apply, however, sticking in uncomfortable clumps against his skin, yet Paul could deal with the discomfort for now. He knew that it wouldn’t stay there for long. In time, Richard set the jar aside, before he disappeared to wash the worst of the gunk from his fingers. Paul called after him, a little annoyed that the other man would leave him sticky and half aroused in bed just so that he could have clean hands. Richard wasn’t gone for long however, and Paul could see that the other man was just as aroused as he was, judging by the bulge of his erection against the front of his lover’s pyjamas. The bed dipped and swayed beneath Richard's weight when he joined Paul in bed, head soon dipping to apply his tongue against Paul’s chest. Paul sighed when he felt the other man’s warm breath against his skin and the wet feel of his lover’s tongue against him as he began to lick the Nutella away. Richard took his time, his tongue a slow and torturous thing against Paul’s skin and Paul was achingly hard by the time that Richard had made his way down to his abdomen. Paul slipped his hand into his pyjama bottoms and began idly touching himself, as Richard continued licking against his stomach, breath creating warm waves against Paul's skin, so that Paul shuddered beneath the tickling caress of it. 

Paul’s hand moved faster, as arousal grew in his abdomen, and loud groans worked their way thickly from his throat; his mind was filled with thoughts of Richard, as he drew nearer to his climax. Paul felt Richard tug his pyjama bottoms down as far as the trapping weight of Paul’s body would allow, before the other man’s mouth closed over the end of Paul's cock; Paul’s hand fell away soon to be replaced by the warm wetness of Richard's mouth. Richard's head began to move, as he began pleasuring Paul. Paul couldn’t last long, already halfway to climax by his own hand and he came down Richard's throat with a yell and a curse and a whine of his lover’s name. 

Richard cleaned Paul up as best as he could, tongue and lips laving and sucking at Paul, until he was mostly clean, before he eased away, momentarily leaving the bed to retrieve the lube from his bedside cabinet. Richard was soon pressed against Paul again, turning him over and slotting pillows beneath Paul's unresisting body. Paul smiled and allowed his lover to manhandle him, to ease his pyjama bottoms down, replaced soon by the slick feel of Richard’s lube-covered fingers. Richard prepared Paul, fingers dipping and swirling and playing with Paul until Paul was fully prepared for him. 

Paul waited until he felt the familiar weight of Richard bearing down upon him again and the other man guided himself inside Paul. He began to move, gently at first and then with more confidence once Paul was more comfortable against him, bodies moving in time against already sticky sheets. Richard soon came, yet it was too soon for Paul to experience anything more than a dry second climax, yet Richard's name was wrenched from his lips in arousal all the same. Richard eased away to lie beside Paul, a contented sigh filling the spaces between them, Richard's hand a warm weight against Paul's exposed behind.

“You’re gonna get a hell of a bruise there in the morning, Paulie,” Richard observed, as his fingers caressed the curve of Paul’s butt and the beginnings of the bruise.

“Hmm-hmm,” Paul said, but he was too well-fucked to particularly care. “I’ll deal with it in the morning, I suppose. Or not; there‘s nothing much I can really do about it, now.” 

“And the laundry,” Richard said, with a laugh. “Nutella sheets.” 

Paul laughed, but the sound was already thick with sleep and drowsiness. 

“In the morning. Go to sleep, Reesh,” Paul mumbled, as his eyes slipped further closed.

“Okay. Good night, my darling,” Richard said, as he leant in to press a kiss against the end of Paul’s nose.

“G’night, gorgeous,” Paul said, with a smile. 

He still was smiling by the time that he fell asleep a few moments later.


End file.
